Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) by Camille Peters (thriller books to read .txt) 📕

scurried down Darius’s arm on eight fuzzy legs, each of which snugly wore a knitted purple slipper, while bronze lightning bolts polka-dotted his body. A spider? How appropriate.

Bolt studied me with a tilt of his head, all eight eyes unblinking. “I like her eyes; violet is my favorite color.” His voice was soft and silky. “And you’re right, she’s very pretty.”

Darius whacked at him, but Bolt easily dodged it and jolted up his arm so quickly the movement blurred. “I never said that,” Darius stammered, his cheeks crimson.

“But you did. You said—”

Darius pinched Bolt’s mouth shut to silence him. “You’re strangely talkative tonight.”

Bolt squirmed from Darius’s grip and perched on his shoulder. “That’s because I already know I’m going to like her.” His fangs glistened in the moonlight as he smiled at me.

Great, the creepy spider liked me and my competition hated me. This was going terrifically so far.

Bolt settled more comfortably on Darius’s shoulder, pulled out two sets of miniature knitting needles, and began to knit. I stared.

Stardust yawned beside me. “Not that this little powwow isn’t fun,” she whispered, “but you should start weaving; babies wake up a lot throughout the night.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Darius asked. “Coming up with a battle plan?”

Stardust morphed into a boulder. “Rethinking yours?”

“There’s no need,” Darius said. “At the Academy I always received top marks for my dream blueprints. My weaving professor stated tonight’s nightmare was the best he’d ever seen for a newborn. I’ll easily weave myself to a glorious win.”

Oh great, a pre-victory speech. “Don’t you tire of constantly praising yourself?”

“How can I when it’s so deserved?” He winked.

I didn’t have time for this. I fumbled with my bag while Darius leaned back, making no effort to retrieve his own supplies. He read the confusion in my expression. “I thought I’d give you a head start.”

Stardust’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Nightmares never give their competition a head start.”

Darius simply shrugged. “It seems only fair; it must be difficult being partnered with someone with so much talent.”

I rolled my eyes and jerked my bag open, and my flowers promptly seized the moment to escape. I tried to perform the summoning charm to bring them back, but nothing happened. One of the flowers tilted its petaled head quizzically, another shook theirs in blatant disobedience. Mischievous things.

Stardust joined my chase, but they evaded us, skidding just out of reach of our grazing grasp. I panted for breath, conscious of Darius’s smirk.

“You should help her,” Bolt said.

Darius snorted. “Why? She’s being so entertaining.”

Bolt poked Darius’s neck with his knitting needle. “Do the summoning charm.”

Darius sighed, clearly contradicting his earlier insistence he wanted to help me. With a flick of his wrist and a trill of dream dust, the flowers gathered in a bouquet and floated into my waiting arms. Hot tears of frustration and humiliation stung my eyes, but I blinked them away before Darius saw and busied myself arranging my now perfectly still blossoms. But by the flicker of concern I briefly saw pass across his cocky expression, I knew he’d noticed.

He cleared his throat. “Would you perhaps…like some help?”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his words and actions, before giving my head a rigid shake. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Then perhaps you’d at least welcome some advice? That’s a lot of flowers, especially considering you’re not even building your details from scratch. Are you planning on using all of them?”

“So what if I am?" I snapped, ignoring Stardust’s fluffiness squashing my ear and her I told you so hiss; I was regretting my earlier decision in allowing her to remain for emotional support. But it’d be a sign of weakness to back out now.

I pulled out my needle and thread, trying to ignore the heat of Darius’s scrutinizing gaze. My hand shook as I wove, creating huge gaps between my stitches and several cut corners. Halfway through I noticed my threads were too big, which would make the dream less realistic, but I couldn’t unpick with Darius watching; undoubtedly every mistake would be reported directly to the Council. Why couldn’t we weave in private?

I jumped when I felt Darius’s warm breath on my neck as he hovered over my shoulder. “What are you doing, Nemesis?”

“Weaving.”

He winced as one of my threads tore. “Comets. Here, let me.” He reached for my needle, but I shoved him off.

“Stop it, you’ll ruin it.”

“Like you need any help with that.”

“Don’t you have your own weaving?”

“After I prevent this meteor shower from happening. Let me help you.” He tugged on my needle. I shuddered as his fingers grazed mine and elbowed him.

“Why bother? You’ve already made it perfectly clear you expect to win.”

“Win, yes; slaughter, no. I didn’t expect your weaving would be this much of a disaster.”

“Your watching me makes me nervous,” I said. “Turn away so I can fix it.”

He frowned at me for a moment before he miraculously obeyed with another exaggerated sigh. A wave of relief immediately washed over me at being free from his scrutiny. I made sure he wasn’t peeking before I unpicked my threads and, stitch by stitch, slowly reconnected each detail with more delicate stitches.

After several blissful critique-free minutes, Darius shifted restlessly. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Not quite.”

“This is taking too long. At this rate we’ll be here all night. When I requested you for my weaving partner, I didn’t quite realize what I was getting myself into.”

“If you’re so bored, why don’t you look in the mirror?”

Bolt guffawed but Darius ignored the jab. “Your problem is you have too many flowers. You don’t need that many for a basic newborn dream. Dreams that touch on a Mortal’s emotions are what yield dream dust, not fancy or bloated stories.”

Once again, Stardust flashed me her usual I told you so look, which I naturally ignored.

“I only have two details,” Darius continued. “I could effortlessly weave them together and give Maci her nightmare before you’ve even finished. I might as well; even if you manage to finish this century,